


Vents of Consequence

by Rainyhart



Series: Eat Well and Also Often [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2239470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainyhart/pseuds/Rainyhart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets stuck in a rather embarrassing predicament when on a hunt with Sam - literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vents of Consequence

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Could you do a Chubby!Dean fic where Dean refuses to admit that he's been gaining weight even though he had go up a few sizes then they go on a hunt he can't fit somewhere (vent, window, whatever) and he and Sam finally talk about his emotional eating

It’s not Dean’s fault that his pants barely fit him anymore. It’s not his fault that Sam had decided to buy him a cookbook because “If you’re gonna be cooking at least have some variety”, and it’s definitely not his fault that he now spends most of his down-time hunched over the book with a new recipe up his sleeve. Every week the counters are filled with a different dish and the screw ups never go to waste, the proof visibly showing up on Dean’s waistline after almost a month of this routine.

Sam doesn’t say anything about it at first; figuring Dean will grow out of it and eventually settle down with his cooking, but the new foods keep coming and Sam’s also starting to notice that Dean’s clothing sizes have gone up a few since he gave him the cookbook.

If Dean notices anything about it he doesn’t say anything.

—

It isn’t until they’re on a hunt going after a shifter that things turn sour. They’re at an abandoned house on the edge of Wyoming, staring down a blood-stained vent in one of the downstairs bedrooms as their latest lead. A quick game of rock-paper-scissors decides Dean will be the one to do the scouting on the inside while Sam investigates the rest of the house for any extra helpful information, and they come up with a meeting spot just in case it turns out that nothing is actually here anymore.

“Be careful,” Sam warns, his face becoming a mixture of upset and worried when Dean immediately waves the concern off.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean digs through his pocket until he finds his flash-light, already taking a closer surveillance of the space he has to crawl through, “Don’t get lost alright care-bear?” The only response he gets out of that one is an irritated huff and then footsteps recede out into the hall.

Once he’s by himself, Dean sheds his jacket and tugs at the shirt tightly hugging his middle in hopes of cover his abdomen to no avail. The hem of his jeans painfully digs into his skin bellow the belly-button, but judging by the size of the vent he has no choice but to leave it alone and suffer through it.

It takes a few tries but he manages to get down the vent enough that he’s only supporting himself above the opening with his elbows on both sides, and not too long after that his hands are the only grip he has on the edge, feet just barely above the bottom of the vent. When he lets go he expects himself to drop down so he can start crawling around to investigate; but when he actually does release his hands it surprises him when he ends up not going anywhere at all.

“What the,” He grumbles under his breath while trying to wriggle himself unstuck, but it does no good in the task of moving him and it’s then that he realizes the problem. With all the extra weight he’s gained lately pressed up against the steel interior of the vent his back has been forced against the opposite side, making everything else unable to travel down any farther.

Well, so…great. He takes up a whole fucking vent now, and a rather big one at that. It takes more than he’d like to admit for him to free one of his arms enough to get the cell-phone out of his jacket lying on the floor nearby, but he puts all pride aside for a moment to flip it open and dial in Sam’s number. He answers on the third ring.

“Dean?”

“I need you to come downstairs,” He sounds more humiliated out loud than in his head but Sam doesn’t take notice and says he’ll be there in a second.

What he discovers once he gets there isn’t exactly what he expected, but he saves any questions he has until he’s pulled Dean out of the vent and they’ve retreated to sit on the bed. Sam starts, “You wanna talk about it?” And that’s when Dean explodes.

“I got stuck in a vent; of course I don’t want to fucking talk about it!”

Sam hesitates even saying anything after that and heavily debates just letting it go, but it’s been going on for too long for him to ignore it anymore so he persists. “Dean, I know what this is about,” He waits the silence out to see if the statement gets him any response but when it doesn’t he adds on, “I know you’re upset about hell.”

There it is.

“So what, is that why you bought me that stupid cookbook?”

“Partially, yeah,” Sam admits, but Dean seems too exhausted to care. “I didn’t think you would actually use it or that you’d,” He makes an awkward gesture to accentuate what he means without saying the words, “You know.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the statement, “What you mean eat myself to obesity?”

“You’re not obese Dean,” Sam defends calmly, says, “You’re empty. When you’re not drinking, you’re eating something; thinking maybe it’ll get rid of that feeling and I get it-,”

“How would you know anything?”

“Because when you went to hell I lost something too Dean! I lost my brother,” It comes out of nowhere, but it gets the both of them to go quiet and there’s a while where neither of them say anything at all, until, “We can work on this thing together if you want to, but you gotta let me in.”

He doesn’t expect Dean to say anything to that, but when he does he says, “Fine, but I’m throwing that damned cookbook away.”

Sam can’t argue with that.


End file.
